


It just sort of... happened

by gaylie



Series: bwtslots [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Underage Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:38:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylie/pseuds/gaylie
Summary: In which Grillby's only friend is Muffet, and he couldn't even really call her a friend.
Part of my fic Back When They Still Lived On The Surface





	

**Author's Note:**

> check out this new oneshot i wrote!!  
> this one was super fun tbh  
> it took a bit longer, but its also a bit longer than the last one

The difference between monsters and humans, or well _one_ difference, was that monsters came in so many different shapes and forms and colors. Humans were always the same, sort of. They were always the same in biology, monsters were hardly the same at all. It had always been hard for monsters to really pick up on each other’s signs, if they didn’t live or spend a lot of time together. While what for one monster could be a sign of booming health, it could mean for the other that they were dying of sickness.

Elementals couldn’t bruise. That was a thing Grillby sort of spent more time thinking about than he probably should. A _lot_ of monsters didn’t bruise, he wasn’t special. He just _wished_ he did sometimes. He’s heard of cases in which parents hit their children, so the children got taken away once it came out. But it _didn’t_ come out in Grillby’s situation. He didn’t bruise and didn’t get any visible wounds or marks on his body. He wouldn’t _talk_ about it either.

It wasn’t, really, like he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t deal with it. It was just that he was sick of it, tired, but he was too young to move out, too scared to run away. For good, at least.

 

"You seem really cool."

  
"Why are you always alone?"

  
"You should hang out with us sometime."

Grillby never minded being alone, preferred it sometimes even. He wasn't good at talking and people often assumed he wasn't listening either, which wasn't the case at all. He just wasn't good at talking. But it made things awkward, always.

It didn't help that keeping for himself apparently made him the 'mysterious type,' and girls liked that. Girls liked him in general. He wasn't smart, didn't have good grades, but he'd always been really good at sports. He could easily beat most of the jocks in anything if he wanted to, but he didn't.

The girls did, though, constantly asking him why he wasn't joining any of the sports teams, why he wasn't hanging out with any of them. Grillby just wanted to be alone. He didn't like being the center of attention, didn't like attention at all.

So he stopped going to school.

"That'll be bad for your future, flameboy," that one girl, _Muffet_ was her name, had told him once. She wasn't any better, really, but maybe that was his fault. She had seen him in town on her way to school and blindly decided to join him.

"I don't have anything better to do," she'd said back then. "I'm not failing, unlike you." She had bite. He liked that. Or maybe he didn't, but at least she wasn't gushing after him like most of the others did. Then again, she probably did, just in her own way.

But now, after it had become a thing to just skip class with her, she told him it would ruin his future.

"Whatever," Grillby had said. He didn't want to think about it. About his future. About going back to school. About doing anything.

"Don't your parents say anything about this?"  
"My parents can stick it up their asses," he'd said without hesitation. Muffet barked out a laugh. He had bite too, if he wanted to, and she liked that.

She asked him how old he was one day.

"Thirteen," he'd said. She laughed. Her laugh was strange, not like a normal, natural laugh. Maybe it was fake. It fit her image.

"I could've _sworn_ you were fif teen at least." He's heard that a lot. He looked older than he was. Sometimes people said he looked t o o serious for his age. He _felt_ too serious for his age.

"Have some fun," adults often told him. "You're a kid, you should enjoy that time. Smile a bit."  
He didn't. Never did, didn't want to either.

Muffet didn't tell him any of that.

"That means I'm actually older than you," she said, a bit of mischievous pride in her voice. “I’m fourteen in a month.”

 

It wasn’t really that Grillby… _loved_ Muffet. He wasn’t even sure he liked her all that much, if he was being honest. But the thing was, he wasn’t. He wasn’t being honest, and Muffet was the closest thing to a friend he had. The closest thing to literally any person in his life that didn’t just want to beat the crap out of him. So when Muffet one day came up to him saying something along the lines of,

“you can feel it, right? That thing between us? I know you’ve got feelings for me, and you know I’ve got some for you.”  
He didn’t disagree with her. Honestly, he thought, maybe she was right. How would he know? He never liked someone that way. Hardly ever liked anyone at all. So it _might_ as well have been love for all he knew.

So from one day to the other they were suddenly a thing. And Muffet was the kind of girl that _wanted_ to act all big and grown up. She _wanted_ to do the things she’d actually be too young for, because it made her feel superior or special or whatever.

She waited until they’ve been dating for two weeks. Then, when Grillby was visiting her at her home – a nice little place, warm and cozy, not as large as the house Grillby lived in with his parents, but far more homey – and her parents and siblings weren’t home, one thing lead to another and before he knew it, at least four arms were pinning him to her soft, purple bed.

“I _know_ you want it, too,” she had purred, one of her many arms groping roughly at his groin. It sent a spike of… _something_ up his spine. Fear, he had realized later. But at that moment he hadn’t, and all he realized was that adrenaline buzzing through his system, and the hand at his crotch.

She had mentioned it a few times before. Had hinted at it at first, that she wanted to step their relationship up, wanted to get to the ‘next base.’ Had told him directly, had told him it was time for them to finally have sex, because they were young and free and no one could stop them, they were wild. Grillby had never agreed with her. He had also never _disagreed_ with her, so he didn’t really have a right to complain.

And he didn’t. Didn’t complain or tell her to stop, tell her he didn’t want to do it. Not when she started stripping off her clothes, not when she started stripping off _Grillby’s_ clothes, excusing his frozen state with the fact of seeing her nude for the first time. Grillby couldn’t care less about _that._ He just sort of… froze. He just didn’t know what to do anymore. This, all of this, wasn’t a thing he knew how to deal with. He knew he _wanted_ to stop, but he also knew that if he did Muffet would leave him. And he sort of… felt like he needed her. Like maybe things were a little bit better if he wasn’t alone.

And eventually he decided, maybe, this wasn’t going to be so bad? It wasn’t going to be much worse than when his parents beat him. Than when his parents yelled at him, abused him, ignored him.

The groan he let out the second Muffet slid down on his length, with hardly any preparation or whats-o-ever at all, sort of confirmed that. Or it would’ve, if it wouldn’t have been a half pained groan, but he could easily ignore that fact for now. Could easily focus on the pleasurable tightness around his dick instead.

Sex had been… fast. Fast and rough. Sloppy and a little painful. They were inexperienced. They were too young and didn’t have an inkling of an idea what they were doing.

Muffet said it was normal when she bled a little after she pulled off again. Said it had something to do with it being her first time. Grillby didn’t know _too_ much about it, but he thought he’d heard something like that. He still felt bad. Still felt like he’d done a mistake.

They didn’t stop there, of course. Once she’s gotten the taste of it, Muffet became a lot more sex-driven than Grillby would’ve ever anticipated _anyone_ to be. There was hardly a day the two of them wouldn’t end up on a bed or a couch, against a wall in an alley or in the bathrooms of _some_ public space, making out without shame. Grillby found that this wasn’t actually so bad. That once they got past the awkwardness, this was a lot nicer than having to deal with life.

He’d freaked out once, twice, thinking, what the _hell_ was he gonna do if he got Muffet pregnant? It wasn’t really like he could use a condom. He tried, honestly. _Honestly_. But the rubber would get hot and drippy and Muffet said he was gonna burn her goddamn cunt if he’d put it in like that.

Muffet had also told him, though, that he _couldn’t_ get her pregnant. That elementals and spider kind monsters were too different in biology to physically create a baby. So that sort of… helped? He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but it was better than anything else about this subject that he knew, which was near to nothing.

 

When his parents kicked him out at the fresh age of fifteen, Muffet had told him he couldn’t stay with her. No, not even for a night. Her parents _still_ didn’t think she had a relationship. What they had was a secret, sort of, because Muffet refused to tell her parents. Because she liked it dangerous and liked it mysterious.

But Grillby liked a roof over his head and Muffet was being a fucking bitch not letting him stay with her.

So then there was a span of time, a couple of months, in which Grillby hardly saw Muffet at all. Not because he was avoiding her or vice versa, but because he was dragging his little suitcase of belongings from one place to another, hoping he’d find _some_ roofed place for the night, because it was fall, and it was wet all around, and his flames were weak and sickish and even a not-elemental could see he wasn’t doing well.

So this one nice monster, some sort of dragon-ish kind with green scales, one day came up to him, asked him to join him inside. And Grillby had told him to fuck off, that he didn’t have any money, that he didn’t want whatever he had to offer him, and didn’t tell him that he wasn’t going to let himself get raped, how naive did he think he was?

But the monster didn’t leave that easily, which was probably for the best, because he soon told Grillby he was offering him a job. It wasn’t anything big, anything complicated, just cleaning up after the movies in the cinema. It didn’t pay a lot either, but it _paid._ It paid enough for the elemental to eventually get a small, shabby apartment.

He started having more time for Muffet again, once he wasn’t living on the streets anymore, but Muffet was upset with him. One day she told him it was okay. It was fine that he was being an absolute ass lately, that Grillby was a fucking shit boyfriend, because she realized he was depressed because of what his parents did. And he was going to be fine if he went to therapy.

The thing was, though, Grillby didn’t _want_ to go to therapy.

But another thing was that _Muffet_ didn’t want to deal with his bullshit anymore. “I’m trying to help you, you jerk,” she’d said. And he thought she was _sort_ of right, back then, didn’t realize she was just trying to get back the Grillby she could take advantage from easier. So he’d gone to therapy.

He couldn’t say it was bad, but he also couldn’t say it helped. He was sixteen, a drop-out, lived in a crappy apartment with a crappy job and he _hated_ almost _every living second._ So he just also hated this. Hated therapy. Thought it was bullshit, it was useless, they didn’t _get_ him, they had _no_ idea what he had gone through or _was_ going through. And it was so fucking stressful to just get up every week and go there just to have this asshole telling him how he had to live.

So he just didn’t go anymore after a few days.

And he told Muffet to fuck off.

He was _sick_ of it. Was sick of her and sick of therapy and sick of life.

Muffet didn’t even so much as twitch when he broke up with her. She just said he was making a mistake, that she was the best thing he had and ever would have, that he would regret this. He thought that maybe she was right, but he didn’t care.

For a couple of months Grillby just focused on his job. That and getting a new job. Or well, other jobs. Before he knew it he had four part time jobs, always having to be at one place of another any given time. But it brought money, and he needed it to afford staying in his apartment.

So life was, sort of, maybe not awful.

He didn’t meet Asgore and Mad Ghost until half a year after he’d been kicked out. They were older than him, but Mad Ghost only by a year. Asgore was already nineteen and acted like a mother hen over them once they sort of became ‘friends.’ It wasn’t until Grillby was sixteen that they landed at the wrong place in the wrong time and a gang of monsters tried to scare them off their ground. Mad _immediately_ was all in for a brawl, summoning a knife to show them that he _wasn’t going to run away._ And Grillby, well… he’d never _been_ in a fight. But he’d never _run away_ from one either. And he thought that was maybe a thing worth keeping, so he, too, joined the fight. And eventually Asgore helped them as well, because they were friends, they stuck together, had each other’s backs.

And as it turned out after this they weren’t just friends, they were a gang.

And Asgore was a _boss_ monster, Mad Ghost an almost invincible ghost and Grillby a powerful fire elemental. They didn’t really have to _try_ to be dangerous, they just were by nature.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread.


End file.
